


Exodus

by Ghelik



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon-Typical Violence, Dream worlds, F/M, Some under-explained magic stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9523535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghelik/pseuds/Ghelik
Summary: Murphy is running around the forest, trying to learn how to hunt properly.Murphy is being held as a reluctant concubine for a war-lady.Murphy is living a happy life with Emori on a tiny island, away from wars, and mountain men and crazy people.All those lives are true. But Murphy can only access them through his dreams. His actual life is gray and lonely. Being a janitor on the ark, looking after his abusive mum and trying to keep everything he knows to himself is lonely and frustrating.But when Clarke Griffin is arrested for treason he fins there's maybe a way out of the ark, and down to earth. Earth is the dream, isn't it? And Murphy is really tired of only dreaming the dream.High time to live it.





	1. Chapter 1

Murphy was running through a forest, nearly blinded by the harsh unfiltered sunlight. A small quiet voice in the back of his mind supplied him with the information that he was dreaming, but it didn’t feel like a dream. He could feel the dirt beneath his battered boots, the scrape of random twigs appearing suddenly in his path. He could feel the ache of muscles not yet used to the motion of running full-speed. He could feel the weight of the small spear in his hand and of the backpack securely tied to his back. He could also smell the dirt, and the air and the plants and everything else.

  
Someone tackled him to the ground and he felt that too. The warmth of the body pressing him down, the pang where his shoulder slammed against a rock.

He turned to the smiling girl sitting happily on his chest. The tug on his heartstrings was awful and he wished it would never stop. “Got ‘ya” said the girl with an accent he had grown to love. Or… you know. Not love. But he really liked it.

  
Murphy didn’t do love, so… Yeah.  
“You’re getting better. We will make a hunter of you yet."

  
He sneaked his hands around her back pulling her close to nuzzle at her throat, tickling her with his stubble and making her laugh and twist around in his arms. Her misshapen hand resting against his shoulder, pulling him closer.

  
There were pine needles prickling him on the back where his shirt and jacket had ridden up and his shoulder and legs ached. Murphy was sure there was something torn on his back and the stitches on his stomach itched like crazy.

  
This was the happiest, most peaceful moment of his life.  
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

  
And the shock woke him up.  
Murphy blinked up at the gray ceiling of his tiny metallic room, fighting back the urge to scream.

He took a deep, deep breath and turned his head towards the old cheap clock hanging near the door. Time to stand up.

  
On the other side of the tiny room his mother lay sprawled out on her bed, stinking of moonshine and completely naked.

  
Slowly he rolled out of bed. When his feet hit the metal floor he stopped, listening, watching the woman on the other side, but she stayed down, dead to the world.

Without making any noise he crept around the room fishing his uniform and boots, searching in vain for something to eat. He could still remember how the deer had tasted, how _tasteless_ and cool the water had been.

Finally he fished two credits from his secret stash he kept beneath the mattress – you know, for emergencies like paying for bread and supplies when his mother dilapidated everything they earned in booze.

He filled a glass of water and put it on the table by the head of his mother’s bed. He didn’t dare come any closer in case she woke up and fled as quickly as possible, closing the door soundlessly behind him.

  
The world of the ark was the grayest of the worlds he’d seen so far. There was a constant humming sound in the background, the soft echo of phantom voices crawling through the vents. Food tasted like copper and rosins, water was scarce and every year a little bit more expensive. His clothes were worn thin after nearly a hundred years of being recycled and he hated it.

  
Of all the worlds he had seen, this was the worst, by far. And on one of those worlds he was currently being kept prisoner as the reticent concubine of a war-lady or something like that, so...

  
His mother had told him about the dream-worlds when he was little and she wasn’t an aggressive drunk that hated his guts. She told him all these marvelous worlds were alternate timelines, lives that could have happened if he’d acted differently. It was a rare gift, apparently. He didn’t know the specifics and didn’t care as long as he got to visit the ground every night when he went to sleep.

 

Murphy got his cart and his cleaning assignment – the med-bay from Mrs. Collins. He didn’t talk to the other janitors much, didn’t make friends with anyone really. Most of them had been disgraced into janitor-duty by committing crimes too insignificant to warrant a floating, thus they were bitter and usually older and meaner than Murphy.

At sixteen he wasn’t really supposed to be working yet, but Mrs. Collins liked him well enough, since he kept to himself and did his job, so she hadn’t said anything to the authorities.

  
Mrs. Collins was nearly a neighbor, living only four apartments away from his, and knew about his mum’s drinking habits, knew she hadn’t shown up for work in nearly two weeks and that Murphy’s credits were probably the only thing keeping them both more or less fed. She was a good woman.

  
The med-bay was clam on the night-sifts and those were the shifts he liked best: when there were no people around and he could daydream about the ground without anyone bothering him.

On the night-shifts there were only the medical-students around, keeping an eye on the sick, and a cadet sitting on a chair and trying not to fall asleep. Just to make sure noone came and tried to steal medicine.

  
The medical-student tonight was one Clarke Griffin. The cadet’s name was Bellamy Blake. They were sitting at the nurse station playing chess to pass the time when he came with his trolley.

They looked briefly up and Murphy had to control himself not to flinch.

On the Ark he didn’t really know Griffin or Blake. He hadn’t talked to them more than a few times and mostly to get them to move away so he could mop the floor.

But on the dream-worlds…  
Yeah, he could say he knew them pretty well.

He had betrayed them. Tried to kill Bellamy and then – on the world where he was being held as a concubine - he had tried to help Clarke out of a city that declared that people from the ark were to be killed on-sight.

  
Not that he had much against that decree, other than the fact that he was technically speaking from the ark. Clarke had abandoned him and ran away on her own.

  
On most of the dream-worlds he was fine with Bellamy – except for that one time when he _had_ tried to kill him, but he’d had his reasons and he made up for it, so… Yeah.

  
If he were braver he would actually try to talk to Bellamy on the "real world". But the problem with dream-worlds is: it is extremely difficult to keep them apart; to be able to discern what he knew from the ark and what he’d dreamed.

For example he knew Blake had a secret sister – a fierce girl called Octavia. He knew this because in every world – every single one – he’d met this girl at some point or another.

He knew because three months ago he had anonymously tipped Bellamy’s mother about her son’s plan to allow the secret sister onto a masquerade.

The mother had stopped Bellamy, thus the sister stayed hidden and he stayed on the guard. The mother apparently hadn’t told Bellamy about him tipping her off, because Murphy was quite sure he wouldn’t ignore him so calmly were he to know about Murphy knowing about his sister.  
See?

  
Bloody dream-worlds made his life far more chaotic than it ought to. Then again. Without them he wouldn’t have any sort of respite.

  
Murphy was emptying wastebaskets when the guards came into the med-bay. Bellamy and Clarke stood up, perfectly in sync, as always.

  
When they took her away Bellamy was left behind, confused and angry.

Of course Murphy knew why they had arrested her. Or, well, not _exactly_ why, but he knew it had something to do with the fact that the air-system on this metal bucket they were all trapped in was failing and they would all die.

  
He had hopped that this wouldn’t happen on the only life he was actually living in. Murphy liked being alive, would like to continue being alive for a bit longer.

  
When Murphy finished with his wastebaskets and wandered over to where Bellamy was still sitting he felt the urge pat his back. He’s lived only one alternate world where they’re actual friends.

Mostly Murphy just admires his pig-headedness and good heart. Murphy’s dad had those, too, and he cannot help but trust Bellamy, on a deep instinctual level. He’d like to be more like him, really. Knows he never will.

  
There is a number of things you can say to someone whose 17-year-old friend has been arrested and will probably be floated - Murphy remembers something about a sentence for treason, and those always end in floating – as soon as she’s eighteen. But what comes out of his mouth is: “Isn’t her birthday next month?”

  
Yeah, he might have earned the punch to the nose.

  
Bellamy looks automatically remorseful upon seeing him with a bloody nose sprawled on the floor – it was a very good punch – but Murphy isn’t paying attention.

  
His eyes are fixed on the metallic blood-splattered floor. One of the blobs looks like the dropship.

  
And he’s suddenly struck by a revelation.  
He looked up at Bellamy, with a wicked, blood-stained smile.

  
“Wanna safe you girlfriend? Because I know just how to do it.”


	2. Chapter 2

There weren’t many things that belonged to Bellamy. Everything he had, everything he did, he always shared it. He was living half a life, cutting corners so Octavia could have as much as possible. 

In theory he should have been a seamstress like his mum. Ever since he was old enough to hold a needle without trying to eat it, he had been learning how to stitch and weave and repair clothes. But a seamstress made only half as many credits as a guard did. So, when his mum told him to be nice to the captain of the guard, he played nice and was obedient. Thanks to his mum’s meddling and to his own charm he managed to get accepted as a cadet, even though he was one or two years too old. 

It’s not like he didn’t like being a cadet. The kids were easily impressed and boyish and he liked looking after the youngest ones, to make sure they didn’t get in trouble. He couldn’t help but think how much Octavia would have liked them. He listened to their stories and relayed them to O in as much detail as possible. 

Bellamy really was happy living his half of life, knowing that he must be grateful for what he had. God knew, his sister’s half was a lot worse. And so what if he never could have a wife or children of his own? What if he couldn’t bring a girl home? He was perfectly fine with that. 

There was O. And she would always be enough.   
Or, at least, that’s what he thought. 

The night-shifts had come as a blessing, and he volunteered for them as much as possible. This way, he could spend all day with O, and leave just a little before their mother came back. Octavia wouldn’t have to stay locked up alone all day. Also, nightshifts were slow and relaxed.

But after three months of doing the nightshift, he started to think that, maybe, he was getting a little bit more than he ought to out of them. Because, for the first time in his life he had something he couldn’t - wouldn’t – really share with anyone else.   
Clarke Griffin was three years younger than he was, but already a spitfire, opinionated and bullheaded, smart beyond her years, and with a smile that put the sun to shame.

It had taken him a while to get used to her. Clarke appeared to be just like every other Phoenix girl he had ever met: entitled and arrogant. She surely moved and talked like an entitled little brat, as did her mother. But…

But the longer they spent together, the more he learned about her, the more he liked her. 

Oh, she was entitled! And thought she couldn’t do wrong. But she was also kind, and funny, with a weird sense of humor: slightly too coarse and just this side of completely inappropriate. 

 

Bellamy found himself wanting to see her at all times, counting the hours until his next shift even before this one ended. And, for the first time in his life, he caught himself wishing he needn’t go back home to look after Octavia. 

Which was unfair and cruel on so many levels, he squashed the thought as soon as it popped up. Convincing himself that these few hours a day were enough. He shouldn’t be selfish and, anyway, it’s not like he could build a family with Clarke Griffin. For so many reasons, not only O. 

For one she was Phoenix Station. She was the daughter to not one, but two council members, the same people that would float all his family’s asses if they ever found out about Octavia. 

And here’s another reason for you: she would be floated in just a few weeks’ time for treason no less. So, you see… There was no way his infatuation was going anywhere. 

Unlike him, who was following the sleazy, underfed and underage janitor through yet another set of doors. The janitor’s name was Murphy. Bellamy didn’t know much about him. Only that, apparently he had been a janitor for over a year now – which was so against protocol, he was surprised nobody had filed charges against Mrs. Collins. Bellamy also knew that Murphy’s father had been floated when he was around eight, but he didn’t know the specifics. 

“How much longer?”, growled Bellamy. His shift had ended an hour ago and he needed to go back to Octavia before she worried herself sick. 

Bellamy really didn’t know why he was putting so much faith in this boy. What could he possibly do that Clarke’s mum wouldn’t do to save her life? “Don’t get your panties in a twist”, answered Murphy, walking for all intents and purposes like he didn’t have a care in the world. He had tied the top of his overalls around his narrow waist and stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. 

Bellamy wanted to ask about the bruises that peaked out of the collar of his shirt, but didn’t know how to bring it up. 

“Where are we going?” he asked without much confidence that he would get a better answer than he had gotten before. The boy seemed to take a lot of glee in giving vague and shitty answers. 

“Just a little bit farther.”   
They were on the engineering station. Bellamy hadn’t been here many times. Knew only they threw sick parties and got a pass most of the time, because the ark really needed it’s engineers and mechanics. 

Murphy stopped so suddenly Bellamy crashed against his back. They waited for a moment until a very heavily set woman stepped out of a living-quarter, stumbling her way down the corridor, past them and out of sight. Murphy let out a deep breath and walked over to the door the woman had just come out of. He raped his knuckles sharply against the metal and plastered a sharp smile on his face when it open. “Raven! It’s been too long! How have you been?”

The girl blinked at them, a frown appearing on her beautiful heart-shaped face. “Who the hell are you?”

Murphy pursed his lips and pulled his hands out of his pocket, presenting her with something metallic Bellamy couldn’t identify. “You wound me, Raven. Don’t you remember good old Murphy?”

She raised a thin eyebrow, but whatever the metallic contraption was must have been worth her time, because she stepped back and let them in. When she went to take the metallic thing Murphy snatched it back, his sharp smile still in place. “What do you want?”

“I want you to prep one of the old dropships.”  
The girl frowned. “Why?”   
“Because we are going down and I’d rather not die upon reentry.”  
Bellamy rubbed his face with both his hands. He was mad. Utterly and completely mad and this had all been a waste of everyone’s time. 

“You are aware that earth is not survivable?” the girl, Raven, said, slowly like she was talking to a small child. “It is for us.”   
“For us?” 

Murphy rubbed his face with both his hands. “Our bodies have evolved in space. We can filter more radiation than we need to survive on the ground now. Listen I don’t know the science. The only thing I know is that they’re gonna float everyone in the skybox eventually and this is a chance to survive.”

“How do you know this?”  
The boy shock his head. “I just know ok?”  
“No. Not ok. You can’t just start saying stuff like that and expect us to believe you without any proof.”

“Why not? It’s worth the risk.”  
Raven crossed her arms across her chest. “I don’t think so.”  
Murphy pressed his lips together like he was cautiously evaluating something. “So, that’s it? You going to let them kill Finn?” 

Raven was stiff as a board. “How do you know about him?”  
“I trade in information.” The boy crossed his arms across his chest. “So? You want to help or what?”

Bellamy stepped back. This boy was dangerous. He shouldn’t mix with people like this. It was an unnecessary risk he shouldn’t be taking. “Sorry for making you loose your time”, he said, stepping towards the door. But the boy wouldn’t be moved. “Come on, Bellamy! This is the chance to give your sister a better life!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> This was unbetad.  
> Thanks as always for reading.


End file.
